He gesticulated rapidly in front of the mother's face, drawing his plan, the details of which were clear, simple, and clever. She had known him as a clumsy fellow, and it was strange to her to see the pockmarked face with the high cheek bones, usually so gloomy, now lively and alert. The narrow gray eyes, formerly harsh and cold, looking at the world sullenly with malice and distrust, seemed to be chiseled anew, assuming an oval form and shining with an even, warm light that convinced and moved the mother.
"You think of it—by day, without fail by day. To whom would it occur that a prisoner would make up his mind to escape by day in the eyes of the whole prison?"
"And they'll shoot him down," the woman said trembling.
"Who? There are no soldiers, and the overseers of the prison use their revolvers to drive nails in."
"Why, it's very simple—all this."
"And you'll see it'll all come out all right. No. You speak to them. I have everything prepared already—the rope ladder, the screw hooks; I spoke to my host, he'll be the lamplighter."
Somebody stirred noisily at the door and coughed, and iron clanked.
"There he is!" exclaimed Nikolay.
At the open door a tin bathtub was thrust in, and a hoarse voice said:
"Get in, you devil."